


Call it Home

by mostlypoptarts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, I just really love Ginny/Luna ok, everything is perfect, luna is a cottagecore lesbian, there's not point to this I just wanted to write about my two girls being happy, toothachingly sweet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:55:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29274285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlypoptarts/pseuds/mostlypoptarts
Summary: Luna wants to buy a cottage in the hills of Ireland, where they can hear the waves crash against the cliffs and listen to the birds sing in the early morning hours. Ginny tells her no, that they can hear the waves and the birds just fine not terribly far from her parent’s home.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 19





	Call it Home

Luna wants to buy a cottage in the hills of Ireland, where they can hear the waves crash against the cliffs and listen to the birds sing in the early morning hours. Ginny tells her no, that they can hear the waves and the birds just fine not terribly far from her parent’s home. She doesn’t want to stray too far from her family and Luna easily comes around, so long as she can have a garden out back. They compromise, and find a little place with a spacious yard that needs weeding and a cramped kitchen with a leaky faucet. Ginny helps Luna pull weeds and gnomes from the backyard soil and paints their bedroom walls pink and never gets the faucet completely fixed. They call it home.

On Sundays they go to the Burrow for dinner, and Molly pinches their cheeks and hugs them too tight and calls them both dear. Luna watches Ginny play Quidditch with her brothers and beat them every single time. The boys get what they deserve for going up against the Holyhead Harpies’ best chaser, and Luna never minds the sweaty hugs she gets from Ginny after their matches. She smiles despite, or because of, the sticky, sweaty kisses Ginny leaves on her cheek, because her girlfriend is the best Quidditch player she knows. Dinner is always far too big and Molly always sends them home with at least one dish full of leftovers to last them a few more days. They keep the dish, stow it away in one of the cabinets as they slowly accumulate a collection of Molly Weasley’s cookware. She never asks for them back, and they never think to ask how she keeps getting more dishes.

Ginny does their grocery shopping most weeks, after having to remind Luna one too many times that the clerk doesn’t know what a pickled wrackspurt is or what aisle she might be able to find them in. Luna makes her a list and Ginny sometimes spends an hour wandering the aisles of the organic section looking for flax milk or the oat cereal that Luna seems to like so much but always forgets to ask for when she’s out. 

Luna doesn’t like having a television in their home, and Ginny hardly knows enough about muggle technology to want to argue with her. They do have a radio, though, an old one that Arthur fixed up and gifted them for their not-quite-wedding. The sound comes through crackly on a good day and not at all when it’s windy, and they get only a handful of stations. But Ginny likes to listen to the alt station while she does her morning workouts and Luna listens to jazz standards while she cleans. There is never any news of the war, and the most exciting thing that ever comes through on the  _ Potterwatch _ station is that Harry is resigning from his position as an Auror to teach at Hogwarts.

Sometimes, when it rains, Luna asks Ginny to dance with her. She hums along to the uneven rhythms of the pitter patter on the roof and makes melodies that are disjointed and chaotic and so, so beautiful. She hugs Ginny closer when thunder booms through the night, and watches as her wife’s eyes sparkle when the lightning flashes. She presses her mouth against the line her collarbone creates where it sticks out, leaving tender kisses among the freckles that dot Ginny’s skin.

And in the moments where the rain starts to slow and the sun’s rays shine through the cloud, Ginny feels more in love than she ever has, in love with this beautiful and creative and clever woman. In love with her hair and her perfect button nose and in the stretch marks on her stomachs and the way she carries spiders outside rather than killing them. In love with her kind heart, in love with the way Luna hums old Celtic lullabies when Ginny cannot sleep, in love with everything about her the way she has been since they first became friends. 

When the storm clears and Luna is so tired she nearly falls asleep standing up, Ginny scoops her up like a bride and carries her to bed. She holds Luna, fingers skating across her delicate skin and tracing the scars the war left behind. Luna looks so peaceful while she’s asleep, her face relaxed and eyelashes fluttering and the tiniest,  _ tiniest _ smile on her lips. Ginny memorizes every curve and plane of her face in the dim light of their bedroom, and she stays up to watch Luna as long as she can stand to stay awake. 


End file.
